Katina Squadrons
by AmberRose
Summary: Chapter 13 and 14 up! Finally completed!!... Military-made squadrons commanded by William Grey, their creation and first trials... Venom attacks the base, expecting an easy kill, but what they didn't count on was the Katina Squadrons' will to survive.
1. Prologue

A/N – Only one thing- should I continue? It'll be long and detailed, and will somewhat model the Star Wars X-Wing series, if you've read them. I have the first few chapters, review if you want more. I know I've started unfinished stories… but haven't we all???

Oh yeah, this is based off of Star Fox, which I don't own. And after countless hours of playing the new Star Fox Adventures game in Walmart and Toys-R-Us, I can't wait to get it. 

Holy crap, I forgot… the prologue is based 4 years before the N64 game.. important info

Chapter 1 – Prologue

Keeve Bryant peered out over the crystalline waters of Zoness. The afternoon sun glanced across the waves like a thousand sparkling diamonds. The pure water lapped at the beach, producing a lulling sound enough to sooth a crying kit into calm rest. 

It was working wonders on the tall lynx as he sat on the beach, relaxing to the serenity. The crescent island he was on was used as a military installation, an outpost assigned to patrol their zone and protect any merchant or civilian ships from marauders. 

A simple mission for a single squadron of Arwings. 

Designated Crescent Squadron, it was commanded by Commander Fray Bridgens. Bridgens was a young pilot, yet skilled in both leadership and flight, she was the ideal candidate for the new squad. Barely a year earlier the green squadron had been assigned to the base, protecting innocents from increasingly frequent assaults. Their stay was permanent until things quieted down in the flight space surrounding Zoness. 

For all Keeve cared, he wouldn't mind staying there once everyone else left. He leaned back on his left elbow and stretched his long legs across the sand. 

He had barely made it into the cockpit of an Arwing, as tall as he was. Being 6'4" (uhh... :gets calculator: ) 1.9 meters made him great at basketball, but flying was his true passion. 

Sirens sounded from behind Keeve, a klaxon for all the pilots to proceed to the briefing room. Three short soundings signaled an emergency, and he watched as a four Arwings blasted into the sky. 

He ran up the beach and along the steep path, brushing sand from his brown and black mottled fur. As he jogged, Keeve wondered what was attacking this time. It was standard procedure to call in the off-duty pilots during a sortie, but as the klaxon sounded again, in the emergency signal, Keeve knew it had to be something big. Adrenaline rushed through his veins and he quickened his pace. 

The lights of the briefing room dimmed as Keeve entered. Apparently, he had been among the last to arrive. He had changed into his flight suit as quickly as possible. His chest heaved slightly as he took his seat in the back, next to his wingman, James Harvey. The medium height and built salamander looked at his watch.

"You're twenty-two seconds later than I am," he whispered, "Where were you? Swimming to Crag Island?"

Crag Island was a small lump in an expansive ocean. Nearly three nautical miles from Crescent Island, speed swim competitions were held base wide. Keeve had refused to participate; he hated swimming. 

"I was on the beach, give me a break," he retorted. 

A still image appeared on the screen, and it held a grim picture. Fur-made debris lined an undefined battlefield, obviously pieces from an exploded ship of some sort. In the distance, MacBeth was visible, and further back was Edena. But within the combat zone, three fireballs signified the end of three ships. 

Keeve raised his brows. It was a large battle that the end of three ships would be caught on one silent stopped image. He shuddered. 

Commander Bridgens was standing by the screen. She held up the pointer to a blurred but recognizable ship. 

"The situation is deteriorating fast for our defending flight," she began without preamble, "I need your heads clear and your decisions good. The weaknesses of this fighter are its lack of maneuverability and abundant shielding; the strengths are its speed, and as we see here, numbers. Refrain from smart bombs and hyper lasers. Man your ships."

James glanced a somber face at Keeve, "I have a bad feeling about this."

"You have a bad feeling about everything," Keeve punched his shoulder lightly; "Let's go kick some real stupid tails." 

But the salamander didn't lose his grim suspicion. However, he kept the dissention to himself as he climbed into his Arwing and started the preflight checks. James spared a glance around to each face of the eight remaining pilots. Keeve gave him a thumbs up, and James returned it. 


	2. Prologue

A/N – Ah, due to popular demand, I shall continue with what I have. This is short, gomen, but also the end of the prologue. 

Chapter 2 – Prologue

Eight Arwings arrived on the scene of the battle. Only three of the original four Arwings were left. Keeve hoped the pilot had punched out first. 

"Crescent One is assuming command, form up and take 'em out," Fray said authoritatively. 

Keeve and James flew side by side, and took after three bogies. The small cylindrical ships speed was drastically reduced in the thickness of atmosphere, but were swift in the vacuum of space. The three ships Keeve and James had trailed lost them within moments. 

"There's too many," Crescent Three shouted. 

"Watch the debris," Fray said as Crescent Six reported severe damage to his canopy. 

The battle raged on for nearly fifteen minutes before the Crescents seemed to get a handle on the fast ships. Meanwhile, two more Arwings, including Crescent Six, joined the first casualties. 

Suddenly, all the bogies seemed to converge upon Crescent One. 

"Where's my wingman," Fray shouted.

Most of the Crescent Squadron Arwings fell upon the horde and started picking off ships. Keeve and James began circling around to the back of the group.

"Shields are down," Fray reported, "Crescent Two, take command-"

The two young pilots watched in horror as three laser beams converged upon the G-Diffuser of Crescent One. The blue glow flickered white and erupted into a fireball. The Arwing burst in a flash of fire and silver metal pieces. 

Within moments, a second explosion rocked Keeve's and James's Arwings. More explosions erupted throughout the central battlefield as strategically placed bombs removed red and green blips from Keeve's sensor. 

"It's a trap! Get out of the mine field," Crescent Two shouted. 

When the blasts stopped, no enemy ships were left, however, only three Crescents remained. 

Crescent Two's voice was ragged and pained, "You two were lucky. I have catastrophic damage to my ship, I'm punching out."

Keeve and James were close enough to watch their fellow pilot's hand slap the ejection button. The seat moved, but the canopy did not open. Keeve looked away as the seat burst through the thick clear glass. 

Neither pilot said a word. 


	3. Arise From Nothing

A/N – I'm continuing this to the gentle prodding of a reviewer. Honestly, I didn't plan on finishing it. I wrote a story similar to this about 2 years ago and had started on the next one when they became trapped on a CD. Sounds crazy, huh? But it's infuriating because my 2 gig folder with everything I've ever written is also trapped on that CD so I had to start all over. I swear I posted that story somewhere on the 'net... but I can't find it. Oh well. I'll try and update this regularly. 

BTW, sorry if there's huge spaces between the paragraphs. Has something to do with formatting that I haven't figured out yet.

Katina Squadrons

Chapter 3 – Arise From Nothing

Four years later...

"I am authorizing creation of a new Arwing squadron or movement of an existing squadron to each non-flying Cornerian base," General Pepper announced to his staff. They hurriedly typed or wrote into data pads as he continued, "With the increasing threat of Dr. Andross's biotechnology, each base must be protected. Larger bases may be issued two squadrons, depending on mission contributions and need."

Although the general knew more squadrons would be created than moved, it was a necessary precaution he needed to take. Within the next two days of meetings and preparations, five new squadrons were created, and four were moved. 

In the list was a base on Katina, a supply depot on the space route to Edena, now known as Venom. In the past six weeks, four ships had been attacked, and one destroyed, on their stop to Tagger Air Base. One flight of four fighter pilots was already stationed at the base and their small force was no longer sufficient.

The base was authorized one squadron, a newly formed squadron, consisting of mostly new pilots, and a largely inexperienced commander. 

Commander William Grey. 

"He has merits, General," one officer said, "Top of the academic class, specialized in military operations and tactics, highest marks in flight school, he even broke the record for the simulators. Six kills in five minutes. If it had been a real dog fight, he would have been an ace."

"You mentioned battle experience," Pepper asked, looking over the canine's records.

"Yes, sir, he has flown two escorts that were attacked, scored one kill in his first battle, and all three in his second. He flew solo, as a small cargo carrier escort."

"What about the pilots under his command, do they have any experience," Pepper asked, afraid of the answer.

"Well," the officer hesitated, knowing he would be giving the answer Pepper did not want to hear, "Most... don't have experience, although a few have been flying with other squadrons for a couple months, and two of the pilots were a part of Crescent Squadron."

"Now defunct," Pepper added. 

After a moment of deliberation, the general spoke, "One Crescent pilot will fly as the commander's wingman, and the second will lead a flight. Situate the rest of the pilots in rank and experience order, furs with the most leading flights and pairs, and the least their wingman."

The meeting stretched on into the night, until each squadron was apportioned appropriately, in General Pepper's mind. Any less would be indecorous of the General of the Armed Forces. 

"Me? A commander of a fighter squadron?" William Grey stated, his tone unbelieving. 

"Yes, you will command a fighter squadron," General Pepper repeated, "Don't lose your bearing, Commander," he emphasized the rank. 

"Yes, sir." Bill straitened and inclined his head just slightly. 

The action bought an approving nod from the General. 

"You will meet your squadron in one standard week. During the next five days, you will complete briefings and be issued supplies."  
  


He slid a data card across his desk, "This chip contains your squadron rooster, supply lists, briefing times and checklist. You will report back to me in twelve days with your completed checklist."

Bill took the disk and slid it in his breast pocket. A sharp salute was returned by the general, and Bill took his leave from the office. 

Hours later, Bill had grabbed his surf board and had headed out to the beach. He had one standard week of ocean waves left, and he would be damned to skip out on the privilege. There wasn't even a lake or pond for miles at his new assignment, Tagger Air Base, Katina. 

Coming over the crest of sand dunes, a lowering sun gave only a few hours of surfing for the athletic canine. Bill gazed over the ocean, watching the waves for any promising crests. Among the blue waves were other hopeful surfers. Most sat upon their boards, waiting for the right one. The swells weren't impressive, but some were worth trying for. 

With a joyful gait, Bill headed for the waves. 

Keeve Bryant looked up from his desk. A sheet of paper had slid across the surface. Glancing at the form, he eyed his name and the word, 'Orders'. A grin spread across his face as he grabbed the sheet and read further. 

Sergeant Nom shook Keeve's hand. "Finally getting back into the cockpit, Major?"

"Yes, I am," Keeve shook with joy, "I've been waiting for these orders for years now." 

"Sir, it has been a pleasure working with you. Enjoy your new assignment while we deskjockies make sure you get paid." Sgt Nom winked at the jab at his career. 

Keeve smirked. No longer would he push papers and pencils. 

"I only have a week to get to Space Command," Keeve frowned, "I'd better start packing tonight."


	4. Welcoming Party

A/N – Sorry these are such short chapters. I promise the next one will be long. Someday... when I get a webpage up, I'll upload some pictures of awards and pilot bios. I know this is a little late in the story, but here is the rooster of Bulldog and Red (soon to be Husky) Squadrons. For Bill's species... I'm gonna go with a gray hound. Makes sense, right? Use the roosters for reference. To warn you, I will be using both first and last names, but mostly first. 

Oh yeah, I forgot on the last chapter, but about Keeve, I made up his character like 3 years ago. I don't follow basketball, so he has nothing to do with Koby Bryant. Just a strange coincidence, huh? 

Bulldog  
  
Commander Peter Klein (male jackal)

Flight Officer Haydri Chatookah (male dolphin)

Flight Officer Deanna Kulli (female dalmatian)

Flight Officer Chase Halloway (male malamute)

Red

Commander William Grey (male gray hound)

Major Keeve Bryant (male bobcat)

1st Lieutenant Daphne Weber (female husky)

1st Lieutenant Alexander Tainer (male lynx)

1st Lieutenant Mya Tainer (female lynx)

Flight Officer Jenzalah Roberts (female rabbit)

Flight Officer Aika Muyo (female calico)

Flight Officer Kim Motter (male tree frog)

Major James Harvey (male salamander)

Flight Officer Gyver Brinker (male bulldog)

Flight Officer Gregory Mitchell (male golden retriever)

Flight Officer Depoli Derr (male snow tiger)

Katina Squadrons

Chapter 4 – Welcoming Party

One week later found twelve pilots in new Arwings Type 7*, readying their systems for take off. As each pilot called his systems good, Bill tried to memorize each voice. Com units generally distorted voices enough to make it unrecognizable, which could be a good thing or a bad thing in combat. 

*Ah, a little note: Type 7 is the current military model used, Star Fox uses Type 5 Modified.

"Tower, this is Red Leader, we are ready to go," Bill called. 

A double click acknowledged their clearance and one by one, the twelve pilots lifted off and nosed towards the sky. The support shuttle containing supplies, crew, and personnel followed shortly behind the squadron. 

_The base doesn't have a combat shuttle; they didn't need one with only four pilots. I guess with twelve more pilots the brass didn't want to 'waste' valuable resources, Bill thought._

After settling into autopilot, Bill pulled up the pilots bios. He looked through the files of furs who had already been promoted to officers, and noticed one rare award. 

"The Flying Diamond," he murmured, "That's not one you see everyday. Lt. Mya Tainer... no explanation."

He scratched his ear and thought back to when he had the pilots introduce themselves. Mya had complained about being assigned to the same squadron as her twin brother, but there was nothing Bill could do. She hadn't explained much about herself and he didn't recall seeing the red and blue pin on her dress uniform. 

"Now that is very odd," he frowned, "That means she either thinks she doesn't deserve it or doesn't want it. But she's obviously got to be a good pilot to earn that award as a lieutenant."

He moved on and read about the other pilots. Most were fresh from the academy with no combat experience. Bill sighed. It was going to be a long two weeks before going operational. 

Red Squadron's arrival was greeted with a banner in the main hanger stating, "Welcome New Squadron." 'New' was crossed out and written above, in red, was 'Red.'

"Nice," he smirked, "At least I know they're pilots."

One by one, each pilot landed and went through shut down procedures. Mechanics and flight assistants scrambled around placing ladders on the sides of the jets. Bill climbed out of his cockpit and was greeted by the commander of Bulldog Squadron and the commander of Tagger Air Base. 

"Welcome Commander Grey," Peter Klein smiled.

Peter was a medium sized jackal with lively green eyes. He shook Bill's paw with a grip surprising to his size. The commander of Tagger Air Base also shook his paw. Commander Duncan Bates was a grim husky who looked much older than he probably was. 

"I regret I cannot stay long to chat," the towering husky rumbled in his deep voice, "But perhaps we will meet up later in the officer's lounge."

The commander made his leave, and Bill was left with Peter. 

"I'm sure you've seen the layout of this base," Peter said, "It's a little confusing at first, but you get used to it."

"The first and second levels deal directly with the fighters and cargo bays, correct?"

Peter nodded.

"The third thru tenth layer is everything else."

"You got it. I'll show you to your quarters, but only after you promise to come to the pilot's lounge in your civies before the night is over."

The gleam in Peter's eyes made Bill laugh as he agreed. 

"Good, now grab your duffels and let's go," the jackal said.


	5. The Pilot's Lounge

A/N – There won't be much action in this chapter, but most of the pilots are introduced here and you can get a glimpse their personality and a bit of history. 

Katina Squadrons

Chapter 5 – The Pilot's Lounge

Three hours later found most of the new Red squadron's pilots in the lounge designated for them. It was more of a bar-like setting with a jukebox updated to modern music, and some oldies to mix in. 

The jukebox was currently blaring a rock number as the fighter pilots socialized with their new comrades. 

Peter watched for Bill but was greeted by an old friend first.

"Well if it isn't Peter Klein," Daphne Weber said as she crossed her arms.

If the seat hadn't had arm rests, Peter would have fallen out.

"Daphne!"

She paused, "Is that all you're going to say? After all these years and you can only stare flabbergasted?"

"Of all the Daphne Webers in Lylat, _you had to be the one," he slapped his paw to his head._

"Let's call it fate, shall we," she smirked, "I'll come bother you later, I have other furs to meet."

"I want to cry," Peter muttered.

Their infrequent meetings as children had left scars on his childhood memories. The husky always had an air of superiority about her. When they played sports, she strove to be better and would try anything to be on top. It was the 'anything' that drove the two apart. 

Peter brushed off the encounter and took a swig of his ale. 

"Let's hope Bill gets here soon, 'kay," he told his mug.

A few tables down, old friends were making new friends.

Keeve and James were sharing a booth with Jenzalah Roberts and Aika Muyo. Jenzalah was a lively rabbit who loved to talk. Aika was the opposite, a quiet, reserved calico.

"So where are you two lovely ladies from," James asked.

"I'm from Prescott, Corneria," the rabbit said. She tossed her chest length brown hair over her shoulder with her paw.

Keeve dipped his head, "Jenzalah, right?"

"Call me Zale," she said.

"How about you," Keeve paused, "Aika?"  
  


The feline softly smiled and nodded, "I am from... from... it's not important. I am here now and that's what matters. Excuse me."

She left the lounge.

"Now look at that, Keeve, you scared her off," James said.

Zale took a swig of her beer, "You shouldn't end a sentence with a preposition." 

"Huh?"

"Prepositions are words such as off, or with, or to, and you shouldn't end a sentence with one. It's bad grammar."

"Who are you, the Grammar Queen," James laughed.

"Well since you asked, yes, I am." She smiled and finished her drink, "I'll be back."

Zale walked by another table where two Academy graduates were listening intently to old 'war stories' from a red-furred golden retriever.

"So there I was," Greg Mitchell waved his paw across the table, "Strapped to the table with electrical wires and an old ceiling lamp in my eyes. That busty feline comes in with a whip and a can of something. She asked me, 'So Mister Brave Pilot, do you give in?' Of course I said no."

He leaned back and took a long drink. The two young pilots gripped the table and leaned in.

"Where was I? Oh yeah, she took that can and shook it. You know what was in it?"  
  


"What?" They simultaneously asked.

"Whipped cream. And I am a sucker for... suckers covered in whipped cream. She took off that strappy bra, smothered her chest with whipped cream, and you can guess what she did next. Boy was I in heaven. But I couldn't give in, I needed more man points. You won't believe how she made me give in."

"How, how?!" One asked.

"You can't leave us hanging, this is better than late night TV!"

"Yeah, more open to interpretation, huh? Lets your imagination run. So, where was I? Oh, she started tickling me. But of course that was after she covered me with that whipped cream and licked it off. There is nothing more tantalizing than a scantily clad woman licking whipped cream off your chest... Ahh... So after I gave in she gave me the ride of my life. She even did it free of charge because I outlasted every other guy. Cool, huh?"

He took another drink, "So who are you two again?"

A short tree frog leaned back, "I'm Kim Motter. From Zoness."

"Depoli Derr. Kline Air Base on Fortuna." The snow tiger rolled up his sleeves.

"Hey, aren't you General Derr's kid?" Greg asked.

"Yeah. I'm trying to make a name for myself, you know," Depoli frowned.

"I can relate. My bro and I were always known as the Mitchell's cargo pilots. I was like, 'Hey, my name is Greg.' They didn't care though, they just said unload the damn cargo and free up this space. Oh well."

"Are we gonna have experiences like yours," Kim asked.

"Ah, maybe someday you will. If you follow my lead," Greg finished his drink, "Hey, lets get another round."

At the bar, two identical lynxes shared drinks.

"So has Mya found out I'm here too," Ambro Tainer asked.

"More likely than not. She's gotten real meticulous lately. I'm sure she's probably looking thru personnel lists right now, or working on her jet tweaking this and that. She wasn't happy about our dual assignments, so I'm sure she'll be pissed about you being here too," Alexander Tainer said as he slammed his shot and tapped the bar for another one.

"Hey that's four already, you should slow down there bro," Ambro said.

"I can handle my liquor, thank you."

Alex, Ambro, and Mya were triplets, born on Monument, Corneria. Alex and Mya signed up as pilots while Ambro took up the mechanic's wrench.

Ambro nodded as he took a drink. "So what have you been up to? Just flying escort missions and one day you get orders to a real squadron?"

"Pretty much. Mya got the Flying Diamond a few months back. She was out on a solo mission when a full enemy squadron attacked. She held off all twelve of those fighters until that cargo ship made it to Cornerian air space. She was going to refuse the award but the wing commander made her take it."

"Refuse the Flying Diamond?! She certainly doesn't have that pilot attitude."

Alex laughed, "What's that supposed to mean, there, wrench-turner?

Ambro smirked, "You break 'em, we fix 'em. Hey I better get outta here before someone catches me. Take it easy bro, I'll see ya around."  
  


"Later," Alex waved as he slammed his fifth shot and tapped the bar for another.

When Bill finally arrived, some of the pilots had already left. The gray hound searched the room trying to remember who was who. His eyes fell on Peter and he made his way across the room.

"Well look who finally decided to show," Peter grinned, offering a drink.

Bill took it and said, "I wanted to start unpacking."

"Oh okay. You could have come up with a better excuse though. Some furs have already left."

Bill nodded as he took a drink, "I'll see them eventually. If they're my pilots, I'll see them tomorrow. Commander Bates sent me a memo with a tour time. It's the only thing I have them doing tomorrow. With all these new pilots, I'm going to encourage them to visit the simulators at least once a day and record the stats."

"At least you get a couple weeks to acquaint yourselves with each other and the jets. When Bulldog Unit came, we were pulling sorties the next day. Of course we were all battle experienced too. Looks like you've got yourself quite a task, Commander."

"Please, call me Bill," the canine smiled, "This lounge looks like it'll be a nice place to relax."

"Oh yeah, it's for pilots only. We catch some maintenance guys in here every now and then. They say their fixing something but most the time it's just to hang with us. I don't mind if you don't."

Bill frowned, "Well, only for a few minutes. This place is for pilots only."

Peter nodded. "So is this your first command?"

"Sure is. I went into the academy for a ground job, but they liked my flying too much."

Peter laughed, "They don't care what your specialty is; good pilots are hard to come by. I've seen your academy records, six kills in five minutes. That's pretty good."

"I really think I got lucky, but I tell everyone else it was skill," Bill winked.

They shared a laugh.

Chase Halloway searched the room for furs he hadn't met yet. The thick-furred malamute straitened his tartan shirt and finished his ale. He was moderately tall and thickly built. He found a bar stool and took a seat. 

A tan furred rabbit approached him, "I don't believe we've met."

He took her extended paw and shook it, "Chase Halloway. What is your name, lovely lady?"  
  


She smiled sweetly, "Jenzalah Roberts. Call me Zale. Pleased to meet you. You looked a little lonely over here so I thought I'd be company for a while."

Chase had usually been the one to approach a female, so he was unsure of what to do in the reverse situation. He decided to make small conversation.

"So what made you become a pilot?"

"Now that's a question I haven't been asked yet," she grinned, "I just like flying. My father is an admiral of a cruiser out in Sector Y and my sister is the Bridge com Officer."

"Wow, so your whole family is in the military."

"Well my mother isn't. She's always worried sick about us. But she's used to it by now. So what about you? Why are you flying?"

"Jenzalah Roberts, right?"  
  


She nodded.

"Hey, remember Chief Halloway? The Chief Sergeant of the Space Corp?"

Zale thought for a moment then nodded, "Yeah, I remember him from some military functions in the past. Ones were you bring your families and everyone gets drunk."

"That's so cool. I'm his son. I really thought you looked familiar."

"Yeah, now that I think about it, you look familiar too. Wow, they say it's a small universe."

Chase laughed, "So how is Admiral Roberts?"

"Oh he's fine. Rachel tells me he's getting a little too old to relate to the newer officers coming aboard, but he's doing well. How is your father?"

"He's retiring in a few years. I guess he's had enough," Chase laughed.

"They might not let him go if we go to war with Andross," Zale hesitated.

Chase took a drink, "Well, if we do, we'll just have to make sure it doesn't last long."

"Indeed. I'll drink to that."

They clinked bottles and drank. 


	6. The Morning After

A/N – A nice long chapter here, enjoy!

Katina Squadrons

Chapter 6 – The Morning After

The next morning found quite a few pilots hung over and others with pounding head aches. 

Keeve, who knew his limits, looked on in mild amusement, "Sir, it might have been better to wait till tomorrow for the tour, or at least later today. No one will remember anything."

Bill rubbed his head. He too was a victim of too much to drink. "Well, we all have the floor plans programmed into our data pads. It shouldn't be too much trouble to find your way around."

The tall bobcat scratched his neck. Bill was much shorter and smaller than him, so it figured that the gray hound was more susceptible to intoxication.

Bill could tell what Keeve was thinking and retorted, "I am not a lightweight. It's just been a while since I've had the opportunity to share drinks with fellow pilots... So I got carried away."

"Like most the others," Keeve said.  

Bill couldn't argue there. 

The tour lasted two hours as the guides were very thorough. To the recovering pilots, the tour lasted twenty-two hours. The group ended in a simulator room on the second level. Red Squadron had brought four units with them, adding to the meager one that Bulldog unit used 

After the guides left, Bill had everyone sit on the lounge chairs available for those waiting for simulators. 

"I know you all just want to go back to bed, but I need to brief you on the importance of using these simulators every day. Nothing compares to live combat experience, but the next best thing is virtual combat. I tested these units before we left Space Command and they are very lifelike, except when you crash or are blown to bits, you always climb out. In reality, you won't. This is an order; you will complete the ten practice missions before these next two weeks are over. Record your scores and save them to your training folders. I will be checking. At a later date, we will complete missions as flights, I'll get back to you on your flight's day," he looked at the tired faces, "Uh, that's all. Dismissed."

Most stood slowly and shuffled from the room. One dark-haired lynx remained.

"Lt. Tainer, I presume," Bill said.

"Yes, sir," she stated evenly. 

"Tell me why you received the Flying Diamond."

Her brow twitched before she spoke, "I was flying as a solo escort six months back when a full enemy squadron attacked." 

She told the story as if she had told it a million times: lifeless and unfeeling. The lynx had held off twelve fighters, taking down three and damaging the rest. The ship had made it to Cornerian airspace but had been so damaged itself that it had to be scrapped.

"That's quite a performance for such a young, inexperienced pilot," Bill commented, "You should take more pride in your actions."

"I'm not a glory-seeker, Commander Grey," she said darkly.

"And every other pilot is? I know furs who would do anything for skills like yours; they're those who can't do anything military wise, who can only watch from the background as others protect them. It's not a sin to be a good pilot, and it's certainly not a sin to be proud of what you do."

Bill's head began to pound again. Mya sensed his distraction and said nothing. 

"If you wish to begin simulator runs, you may do so. Just don't spend all your time here. I want you to get around and meet other furs."

"Yes, sir," she said quietly and walked to the nearest simulator. 

James Harvey pulled his Arwing into a hard U-turn. The bogey on his tail followed shortly, maneuvering a much larger turn. The salamander barrel rolled as red lasers flashed by his jet. In the distance, he saw a missile approaching the large ship his flight was protecting. 

"Take down that missile," he called into the com.

"Red 11 is heading to the missile," Greg said. He had no one on his tail currently, "Copy there, Red 12?"

Depoli double clicked in acknowledgement. The two attacked the missile as they closed in. Greg ran by the explosive, firing along its length, but Depoli slammed his brake on and pounded the metal casing. 

"Red 12, you have three bogies approaching from behind, get off that brake," James said. 

The snow tiger flipped his shields aft at 90%. The three began firing but the shields held. 

"Look out Red 12, this is Red 11 coming in for another fly by," Greg said as he fired at the thrusters of the missile. 

Only a few hits were needed and the rocket detonated. Depoli's happy cry ended abruptly as he realized the 10% shields were insufficient to block the explosion. His shoulders fell as the screens went black. 

"That was a lose-lose situation," Greg sighed.

"Enough chatter, we'll discuss that later," James said, "We have another missile approaching. Stay clean Red 11, if you need assistance, just ask."

James had finally shaken the pursuer. 

"Red 10, we'll come in hard and fast, you take left, copy," James said as the boosted his thrusters.

"I copy," Gyver Brinker said as he followed suit. 

The two roared down towards the missile when Gyver realized he was being tagged. 

"I got one on me," the bulldog switched a higher concentration of shields to the aft. 

"Red 11 will take it," Greg chased after the smaller jet as it ran from Gyver. 

"Thanks Eleven."

"This is Red 9, take your side and fire," James shouted as he rapidly pulled the trigger. 

Their combined attack took out the missile in no time. 

"Thank you," the defenseless cargo ship captain said. 

The three other screens blanked and the side hatch opened on the simulators. Depoli stood with his arms cross, not looking happy at all.

Greg slapped his wingman's back, "Hey don't be so down about it. You helped pretty good on that first one."

"Yeah, then I was blasted to bits," the snow tiger growled.

"Well I can't deny that," Greg shrugged.

Bill approached the group. 

"That was... decent for a first run as a flight," the canine said, "You took out both missiles before they did damage, so you accomplished the mission. FO Derr, what was your mistake?"

"I flipped my shields aft to 90%, which blocked the shots of those three bogies. But when the missile blew, I only had 10% to protect the front. Looking back on it, I really didn't have good choices, it was either stay and get blown by the enemy or the missile, or take off and try and loose three bogies." 

Bill nodded, "Those were your choices after you stopped. What if you had continued through like FO Mitchell?"

Depoli paused, "Well, I might have made it, but then again, those three might have tagged me anyway."

He looked at the group, "The decisions you make during combat must be made quickly. You don't have time to reflect on what will happen if I do this compared to that. Always stay on top of things and keep an eye on your displays."

He handed each one a small chip, "These are the stats recorded from the mission. Be sure to review them. Dismissed."  
  


Keeve came in after the four left the room. 

"How'd they do," he asked. 

Bill sighed, "Depoli had a quick think for the stop scenario. He was blasted, but the missile did it, not the bogies."

"Wow, he was the only one out of the three."

"At least they took out both missiles. Two flight didn't get even one!"

"Right, but only two survived the first five seconds," Keeve said softly.

Bill balled his fists, "Don't remind me of _that!" _

Two flight had started with five bogies and two had immediately latched onto Kim Motter's tail. The tree frog pulled into a loop but collided with Jenzalah Roberts, who just happened to be flying over him. The impact rendered both incapable of flight and the two tailing Kim blasted both. 

"Do you have any suggestions, Keeve?" 

"Crescent Squadron didn't have simulators, so we always practiced with live fire. Really, the simulators give a sense of immortality since you always climb out of it. Maybe Motter would have been more careful if it was in real life."

Bill nodded, "That's a good idea. Maybe we can get some mechanics to fashion some harmless laser dummies."

"A set of thrusters, weak lasers, a metal box. Yeah, that'll work."

He couldn't tell if the bobcat was being sarcastic. Keeve finally broke a smile.

"I bet you have a great poker bluff," the gray hound shook his head.

"Oh yeah, I've won lots of credits that way. What we did was dial the laser power down to almost nil and chase each other around like school children playing tag. It was a lot of fun and great target practice. The low laser only took away about half a shield point, so we lasted forever."

"Did you ever have a collision?"

Keeve paused, "I don't believe so. That's why I think Motter wouldn't have hit Roberts. 

"Thanks Keeve, I'll keep that idea in mind."

"So, Commander, want to play poker tonight?"

Bill smacked the bobcat's arm as Keeve snickered.


	7. A Day Well Spent

A/N – Just a little scene between two members of the squadron. Not really important to the plot but it does go into their personalities a bit. 

Katina Squadrons

Chapter 7 – A Day Well Spent

Aika signed the hover bike form and handed it back to the red parrot. The parrot handed her the start code. Before landing a few days earlier, Aika had looked for any kind of forest or hills in the area. A chain of mountains and trees were to the west, distanced perhaps two or three klicks. On a good hover bike, it would only take about forty minutes to ride. 

The calico tightened the straps on her backpack and started the bike. It was quiet and quick as she sped away from Tagger Air Base. The clear force field, similar to those on open cargo bays in space, blocked the wind riding over the bike and into the rider's eyes. The bike cruised through the waist-height brown grasses towards the distant mountains. 

As a girl, Aika and her sisters used to ride their father's hover bike to school. After classes, they would race other kids in the streets for candy. She sighed. She missed those carefree days with her younger siblings.

She arrived at the tree line and slowed down. Her map showed a winding river that began as a waterfall off a cliff face just ahead. Over the quiet bike, she could hear the roar of the fall. She parked the bike near a large pine tree and approached the water's edge. Before her was the most beautiful view she had seen in a while. Crystalline water spilled over a mossy rock ledge, cascading down like a skirt. Around the deep pool at the bottom were large rocks, those close to the water were covered with green algae. 

"This is perfect," she breathed. 

She found a flat rock and pulled a small camp seat out of her pack. The calico moved the seat around until it didn't rock, then pulled out a drawing book and colored pencils. 

Another thing she had done as a child was draw. Whenever she was overwhelmed with emotions or upset, she somehow could draw it on paper. She hadn't drawn a landscape in a while, though, and she knew that she probably wouldn't have much time once the squadron became operational. So as every one else was flying in simulators or unpacking in their quarters, she was busy relaxing. 

Now that was something Aika hadn't done in a while either. 

She sat the book in her lap and began outlining.

Greg dipped his bottle in the river and filled it. He had tested the water earlier and it was clean. The red furred retriever was pleasantly surprised, since all the rivers on Corneria were polluted with ancient chemicals that had no way of breaking down. This river probably started in the mountains as runoff streams that gathered mass and momentum as they ran down the hills. 

Really, Greg didn't care. He was just happy there was more water for him to drink. 

Up ahead, he could hear waterfalls. He rested on a fallen tree and referenced his digital map. He had started his hike at the fall just downstream, trekking up into the hills, around a great hollow, and down the other side. Upon reaching the river, he simply followed it to the point where he had begun.

"Oh yeah, that pool is at least ten feet deep, I am definitely jumping," he grinned. 

He reached the edge soon after and peered out from the left side. He remembered there was a large rock underwater on the left side. He found it and judged the jump in his head. Then he removed his clothes to his swim trunks and put them in a water tight bag in the pack and strapped it on. 

Greg stepped out into the swift water and ran towards the edge, "Bonsai!!!" 

Aika watched in astonished disbelief as a half-naked red-furred canine leapt spread eagle from the twenty foot water fall screaming "Bonsai." He curled into a ball at the last second and made a huge splash. 

She could only stutter incoherent mumblings as the canine surfaced and swam towards her. He began to climb out when he suddenly noticed her. 

"Uh... Ah!" He slipped on the algae and splashed back into the water. 

The second try was successful and he shook off excess water. 

"Hey I know you," he dropped his pack and removed his water-logged shoes. He squeezed them and sat them in the sun to dry. 

The cat in her finally released her tongue and she nodded, "I know you too."

"What's that?" He nodded.

"Uh, it's a drawing. Not finished yet."

"Hey I can draw," a goofy grin spread across his muzzle, "Stuff like stick figures."

Aika nodded slowly, "That's nice. So what are you doing out here? I'm pretty sure you aren't here just to scare the daylights out of me."

He laughed, "No, I was hiking. My bike's parked near here... somewhere. You just came out to draw, huh?"

"Yeah. I was hoping to be alone for a while. But stay as long as you like. I don't own this land."

"Me neither. If I owned this land, I'd build a cabin out here and hike every day. This place is so much better than that stinky old space station Dad owned," he sat next to her and looked at the half-colored portrait.

"Say that's pretty good. Like those paintings in the art galleries."

"Thank you," she smiled sincerely, "So you like art?"

"Uh," he scratched his head, "Yeah. I like to look at ones that are colorful."

"Do you like Monnet or Maney?"

He smirked, "I like mayonnaise."

He laughed at her look of bewilderment.

"I have just been waiting to use that," he finally said. draw water. Oceans, rivers, waterfalls, just looking at them makes me feel like I'm swimming."

Greg nodded, "Wanna swim?"

She sighed, "I didn't bring a suit."

"Huh," she sighed. 

"Art is art. Some furs like to draw and paint, I like to run around in the dirt and swim. Do you like swimming?"

"Surprisingly yes. My sisters hated it. That's why I love to

"Well I'll go commando if you do," he leaned in closer. 

Aika blushed under her fur and pushed him away in playful shock, "No way!"

"Suit yourself," he snickered at his pun and jumped back in.

She sighed in amusement and picked up a blue pencil. Aika had thought she would relax better alone, but that zany golden retriever seemed like just the company to help her let loose.


	8. Sibling Enmity

A/N – ah, the next chapter. Thank you for the wonderful reviews you all have given me. I very much appreciate it. Some notes to reviewers... 

Evora- I was reading your revised story,, but the computer booted me from IE. I will read it after I post this. Btw, what I read was much better than the first, keep at it. :) 

Katina Squadrons

Chapter 8 – Sibling Enmity

A young tactics officer inserted the data chip into the Beta-graphic Display Unit (Ha- a BDU, any other zoomies get that one?). His supervisor flipped through various surveillance and intelligence pictures until the written objectives appeared. 

"Here Sirs, you see the advantages of taking this base. Not only is it in enemy territory, but it is along a major trade route between main sectors. By taking this base, we will disrupt both commerce and military traffic. It is a strategic point tucked just behind the front lines."

General Fitzbrider rubbed his paws together, "Good good. How well is it defended?"

"Very sparsely sir. It would take a few squadrons and ground units, but any loss would be compensated for by the value of the position."

The general was a stout beagle with twenty five years in the military. He had started as a tactics officer and had moved his way up the chain until he was in charge of planetary defense. Due to recent events, he had been moved to offensive planning. 

The beagle thought over the plan and agreed, "You will use three squadrons for air support and send some hit and run missions to the other bases on the planet to distract them. Two ground units should be enough for the base penetration. I know just who to choose for the ground assault leader..."

"Hey Mya, wait up," Alex ran to catch up to his sister. 

"What's up," Mya said evenly.

The two nearly identical lynxes were walking down the quarters hall on the second level, with rooms on one side and the gym on the other. 

"I haven't seen you in the lounge yet, where have you been?"

Mya stopped at her door and unzipped her flight suit halfway, revealing a black t-shirt, "Oh around. In the simulators, the gym and wherever else we're authorized to be."

"You should relax more often, I miss hanging with you and Ambro together," he leaned on the wall next to her, "I talked to Marlyn yesterday. She wants to move to Tierhurst soon, so my next leave will be spent packing and moving."

Marlyn was Alex's wife, a petite lynx, who lived on Corneria. Tierhurst was the nearest town to the base and many spouses and families of the military resided there. 

"I think she wants to start a family too. You know how she makes those subtle hints that I usually miss," he grinned.

"You shouldn't," Mya stated.

"Huh? Miss them? Oh come on, guys aren't subtle, we need those loud road signs-"

"Start a family," she interrupted, "You shouldn't start a family while you're in such a dangerous job. Do you know how nice it will be for her to raise a kid alone? Your kid? Your wife?"

Alex frowned, "She realizes the risks I take and that I could be killed. That's why she wants to move closer, so she can see me more often. I want her to be closer too, I miss her."

"You don't get it."

"You don't get it either," Alex retorted, "When you love someone enough to kill for them, to die for them, they understand you in every way."

"I do get it. Why do you think I want to be away from you? When I look over and see your ship blow to bits I..." Her voice faltered.

Alex didn't know what to say. All he could do was stand there and watch his sister's temper flare.

"Damn you! You'll make me weak," she lunged at him, striking his nose with her fist.

They had wrestled and fought as children, but the larger lynx certainly wasn't expecting to be attacked so abruptly. She slammed him to the floor and he lost his breath. By the time he could breathe again, someone had pulled Mya away. A paw was offered and he took it. 

"Thanks," he rasped. 

The reply was from the worst fur who could witness such a tussle, "You two come with me," said Commander Grey.

Mya was the first to be reprimanded, reduced rank, etc. Alex was sure it was something bad. This kind of stuff had happened before between them, and it wasn't the first time Mya had laid him flat. There were times that he had knocked her out too... but they had never been caught by their direct commander. 

This could be very bad for his career. 

While Alex panicked outside Bill's office, Mya maintained her strait face and bearing. 

After she finished retelling the incident, Bill nodded, "I understand you are very strongly against being on the same squadron with your brother, but fighting, in a main hall, is not the way to absolve the situation. I see on your records that you have attacked your brother once before," he paused, "And were caught, so I will have to take action. I am temporarily reducing your rank to Flight Officer and removing you from flight status."  
  


He reached his paw out for her star and wings. After pausing momentarily, she removed each insignia and placed the silver rank in his outstretched paw. 

"I believe you will get these back soon, Mya, you don't seem like the type who gives up. You will attend all briefings given, but you will sit separate from the squadron. That is all, dismissed."

He returned her salute. As the door opened, he called for Alex. The lynx saluted and reported in.

"Are you sure you don't need to see a medic?"

"Yes sir, I'm fine. We... uh, I'm tough."

Bill knew what he almost said and it was good he hadn't uttered the confession. 

"For the next few days or so, it would probably be best to avoid your sister. Very soon though, I will have you two sit down and talk things out like grown furs. You two need to work together, not against each other. That is all, Lt Tainer."

Bill began clicking on his data pad when he heard the soft clank of metal. The gray hound saw two 1st Lieutenant star and wings. 

"I reduced your sister's rank, not yours."

"Sir, it was my fault as much as hers. We do things together," he said solidly.

Bill sighed, "That seems to be the problem. You're not always going to be on the same squadron. It wouldn't surprise me if Mya left Red Squadron as soon as she could. Now put your rank on, Lieutenant."

The severity in his voice persuaded the lynx to pin the silver pieces back on his uniform. He saluted and left.   
  
Bill looked at Mya's rank and sighed again. It was his first reprimand given as a commander. He sincerely hoped the two would work things out. There were few things more priceless than the bond between siblings; a bond he truly missed. 

The door chimed and General Fitzbrider pushed a button on his desk. The doors whisked open.

"Sir, Sergeant Major Tomatz reporting in," a tall ape called firmly.

(a/n- oh I don't know how exactly the army does their rank thing, so I'm making up my own rank ladder.)

"Oh good, you're here," the older beagle finally looked up from his desk screen, "You have read your mission agenda?"

"Yes sir," he said simply, "I understand the objective. May I make a suggestion, sir?"

Fitzbrider furrowed his brows impatiently.

"The air support may not be enough to cover the two units on the way in. The new Air Carriers may be a better choice."

"I have discussed this twice with both tactics and engineering, they are too vulnerable. They'd be more a liability than an advantage. Plus, the air mission is to draw the fighters away from the base and leave it unprotected, not to destroy the station. Is that all, Sergeant?"

The ape paused, and then nodded, "Yes sir."

"Then get out of here. Come back when you have a Cornerian base in your possession."


	9. The Real Thing

A/N – Sorry if I've confused the dear reader with the characters. Up to this point, I've introduced the main players in their own 'feature spot light'. Yes, maybe there are a lot, but when you have 16+ important characters, it can be difficult to pick one as a favorite. They have their personalities and quirks and it's a lot of fun for me to explore them. But it's mostly action from now on so just enjoy. 

Katina Squadrons

Chapter 9 – The Real Thing

"Not bad, One Flight," Bill said as the four members of One Flight climbed out of the simulators. 

"We all made it that time," Keeve commented.

"And accomplished the mission," Daphne added.

Bill handed them data chips, "You know what to do with these. Dismissed."

As the three pilots left the room, Peter walked in. 

"So Bill, how are things going?"

"Much better," he smiled, "It's been a long week, but each pilot, and flight, has improved just about all aspects of flying and teamwork."

"That live-fire training was a great idea. And a lot of fun as well," the jackal said.

Bill nodded, "It was actually Keeve's suggestion, as his previous squadron had no simulators to use."

"So Commander, what do you say we have a little competition? You and me, five minutes in the sims, auto restart, loser buys winner a drink."

Bill grinned, "You're on."

The sim started in Sector Z. The red auras cast a ruddy glow into Bill's cockpit. He spied Peter on his radar display.

"Five minutes start now," Peter said.

Bill barrel rolled as green lasers flashed his way. He watched as the red blip drew closer and pulled into a hard turnaround. The maneuver put him behind Bulldog's commander. 

"Nice move, Red 1."

"I would move your ship instead of your mouth, Bulldog 1," Bill quipped, drawing an amused bark from Peter.

Bill chased Peter's ship in a hard horizontal arc. The jackal glanced at his display and slowly started reducing speed. The decrease was smooth and Bill was suddenly forced to evade collision. He arced to Peter's starboard wing. A loud beeping warned of target lock, but the greyhound was too close to the other Arwing to evade successfully. 

The bomb slammed into Bill's aft engine. 

His screen blanked momentarily, "That was pretty gutsy Bulldog 1."

"Yeah, but successful anyway," the jackal laughed. 

When Bill returned to the battlefield, he was at an advantage with Peter's jet at 52% shields and his at full power. They took turns chasing each other around the arena until Bill fired the finishing shot and reduced Peter's ship to scrap. 

"Tied one for one," Peter said.

They U-turned at opposite corners and faced each other. 

"This is one mad game of chicken," Bill grinned.

"Yeah, but it'll be the tie breaker, there's fifteen seconds left," Peter commented.

Green lasers poured from cannons when they spotted each other in their crosshairs. It was a test of brute strength and cunning. The seconds ticked down like their shield strength and the last moment, one screen blanked before the other. 

"Well, Peter, looks like you owe me a drink," Bill said as he hopped out of the simulator. 

"You put almost all your engine power into the shields," the jackal said rather than questioned.

A nod confirmed it and he added, "I noticed when I had overshot the pre-computed center, but it was too late by then. Good move."

The strategy had boosted power to the shields while keeping the lasers at full power. Manipulating power usage was a skill necessary to advanced pilots. 

"I took a little power from engines too, but they went to the lasers. I figured I'd try to outshoot you," Peter smirked. 

"So when will you buy me that drink," Bill asked.

Red alert lights flashed, signaling an attack.

"It'll have to be later," Peter said, "I thought they weren't going to start landing transports till next week!"

"Let's go find out."

"Zima Squadron and Bud Squadron, hang back and await orders to move in," Arbor Squadron's leader, Major Cane (or perhaps 'Captain Morgan') said. The lizard was also the air commander of the three units. 

"Arbors, break into flights and move to predetermined attack positions," he added. 

"No activity yet, sir," Arbor 3 said.

"Radar tower spotted," Arbor 6 shouted.

"Get rid of it," Major Cane said. 

An explosion lit the darkened terrain as red laser demolished the tower. The target base appeared in the distance, shadowed on two sides opposite the setting sun. 

"Two and Three flights, stay back and cover the troop transports. Once they've landed, call in Zima and Bud Squadrons, we'll draw out all the enemy pilots and destroy them. On my mark, go," Cane said. 

"One enemy squadron is confirmed, but eight ships are standing by, two clicks from the base. Four more are heading this way fast. They took out the radars and com towers," Keeve said quickly.

Bill and Peter exchanged looks.

Deanna Kulli zipped up her flight suit, "They looked like Invader Is on long distance scanners, but the radar went out before we could be sure."

By then, all the pilots had arrived to the hanger. 

"One Flight and Bulldogs will go first, Three Flight will assist if necessary," Bill said, "Let's do it."

Eight pilots jumped into their cockpits and readied their jets. One by one, the fighters launched into the dusk, uncertain of what they were facing.

The two troop carriers landed quietly in the forested regions near Tagger Air Base. Two units of twenty soldiers disembarked by hover craft and set off towards the base. 

Sgt Major Tomatz spoke quietly into the encoded comlinks, "Looks like we came in unnoticed, keep your guard up, they may have short range scanners at the tree line. Scatter out and await further orders."

The eight hover carts stopped at fifteen meter intervals along the tree line. A unit reported that the short range scanners had been successfully scrambled. Tomatz nodded. Now they waited for the flyboys to draw the enemy pilots away.

"Red 1," Keeve said with static, "I believe these are Invader IIs."

"Agreed, 2. Still, eight of us should be enough to take on twelve."

"Bulldog 4, square up, we're taking this one," Deanna Kulli said. 

The two moved in synchronized loops and curves, chasing a newly trained pilot. His frantic movements eventually put him in the line of Deanna's fire. The smaller ship flung out of control and Bulldog 4, Chase Halloway, finished him with a green laser blast. 

"I'm hit!" Haydri Chatookah shouted.

"Bulldog 2, report damage," Peter said, silently cursing as the enemy pilot he pursued evaded every shot.

"Shields down to 80%, no exterior damage," the dolphin said. 

"Stay close, 2, let's try and catch this loser," Peter said.

Bill switched through the channels used to communicate with the base. He could not contact them. 

"Can anyone contact the base?" He asked.

A few moments of silence were answered with negatives. 

"Red 4," Bill called, "Return to the base and report the lack of communication."

"Eight fighters at 270 and 90, moving in fast," Deanna said quickly.

"Negate that order, Red 4, stay close to 3. We'll have to do without com support." _This is about to get hot._


	10. Surprise Onslaught

A/N – A bit shorter chapter here, but 11 will be up soon. Thank you for all your wonderful helpful reviews. They're finally getting into the action part of the story

Katina Squadrons

Chapter 10 – Surprise Onslaught

Mya Tainer watched the laser glow move further and further from the base. Night had finally taken the daylight, and she could no longer see the fighters or the attackers, despite the faint glow from the lighted side of Fortuna.

Not that she could do anything useful. 

The lynx had put on her flight suit, but it was unzipped to the waist and her helmet was in the locker room. Her Arwing sat in the corner, unprepared and quiet. Still, she hated to miss out on action, so there she was, watching the battle unfold from a half-empty fighter bay. 

"Looks like a good fight, huh," Gregory Mitchell said as he approached the open hanger doors.

The dark-furred retriever polished the face shield on his helmet, "You're awful quiet."

"I don't have much to say."

"Something strange just happened," he said, looking at the battle, "All the short range scanners have been destroyed or something. Must have been stray shots from those guys."

"Are you kidding? There are fifteen out there and they're all in the trees," she said incredulously. 

He gave her a goofy look as she left to find the radar center. A couple mechanics joined Greg to watch the battle. 

"Don't you boys have something to fix," he joked.

"Not yet," one answered with a laugh. 

Seeming to manifest from nowhere, a brilliant red laser struck just above the hanger door. The three were thrown to the floor and burning metal and beams collapsed onto the two mechanics. Greg groaned as he sat, but ducked for cover as more red bolts flew into the hanger, burning holes and blasting ships. 

It was then that Greg noticed the outline of small crafts barreling towards the base. He crawled to the two trapped furs, but it was too late. Taking a chance, he ran for the relative safety of the ground level ops floor. 

"There're small crafts approaching the open hanger bays," he shouted to the suddenly busy room. 

No one acknowledged him until someone threw him a blaster rifle.

"Eight small troop carriers are surrounding the base," Mya said as she grabbed a rifle for herself and tossed more to others, "They've shot the blast doors open."

She glanced at the retriever, "And we still can't contact our fighters."

"Or anyone else for that matter," James Harvey added as he arrived, "As the highest commanding pilot here, I'm temporarily boosting you back to 1st Lieutenant, Tainer, take your flight and set up around the south and east hanger, we'll take the other two."

"Understood," she said and left with the three other pilots. 

"Right, let's go," James took his flight and set up behind cargo crates and ruined ships.

"Red 6," Mya said, "Find a working com on one of those ships and see if you can hotwire it to contact the others."

Jenzalah ran off to the nearest ship. She hopped into the cockpit for cover and pulled out wires from the panel just as she caught the sound of blaster rifles returning fire. 

"Hurry up in there, we're already loosing ground," Mya called.

"Almost got it," she said. 

She tinkered with sensor positions and frequencies until at last she could hear the exchange of words between pilots in the air battle.

"Red Group, Bulldog Group, this is Red 6, we're under fire here, unable to contact anyone. Eight troop carriers have surrounded the base, we need air cover, I repeat-"

"Get out of there," Mya shouted.

"We're doing the best we can," Zale said as she climbed out, "But we need you- Auh!"

A blaster bolt slagged the ladder she had stepped on. With her support suddenly gone, she fell awkwardly to the cold metal floor, blacking out on impact. 

"Sir, the hanger is secure," a soldier reported to Sgt Maj. Tomatz. 

"Park four hover crafts in the bays and close the blast doors," he said.

"They're locked open."

The ape rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Very well. Use the wrecked ships as barriers to ground assaults, set two furs per door. The rest will secure the levels and capture the enemy."  
  


The soldier saluted and ran off to distribute the orders. Tomatz remembered back to the initial fight to the hanger. Some of the Cornerians had organized and were firing back, but it was inadequate compared to the vying force. Most of the Arwings had been incapacitated with the opening fire, and they were now little more than scrap heaps. Each hull had been checked for surprises before the first level was declared secure. 

He checked his data pad for the base map. The center turbo lift that connected with every level to the 9th floor, and incidentally the Commander's office, was most likely sabotaged. The lifts on opposite corners ran eight levels. Emergency stair shafts descended from the tenth and top floor and were situated in the empty corners. The second floor contained three large rooms, unspecified, and smaller rooms, designated for pilot housing. The base 'chow hall' was also located on the second floor. 

Not that he was hungry. 

The room was large with open doorways where prisoners could be easily watched. But they would have to take the second level first.

Tomatz charged his blaster rifle and set off for the emergency stairs, followed by six troopers. 


	11. The Chances Fade

A/N – It's been a while since I've updated, yes, but it's also been a while since I've had time to find an internet capable computer. But just to make up for it, I've also uploaded chapter 12. Enjoy! Also, I can't get the stupid double space to go away, so sorry if it messes you up.

Katina Squadrons

Chapter 11 – The Chances Fade

Alex flew in a daze. They were kilometers from the base by that time and murmurs of the enemy's trickery passed between the pilots in heated tones. The whole aerial assault had been a ploy to draw the fighters away from the base; and they had fallen for it. 

So if the base was being attacked, then his sister was in danger, as well as all his new comrades. 

"Red 1, we can't just do nothing! They need help-"

"I realize that, Red 4, but you must trust your wingmates. As soon as we finish the rest of these guys, we'll go back," Bill answered. 

Although the words had come from his mouth, he wasn't sure he truly believed himself. 

Deanna Kulli made a long arc around the dogfight, hoping to outrun her pursuer. She watched the distance grow between them when she noticed a red blip moving into her sensor pad. The one multiplied to two, then four, then six.

"We have an unknown amount of bogies moving in from 60... looks like another full squadron," she said as steadily as she could. 

Keeve glimpsed at his sensor to confirm, "There're two full squadrons approaching at opposite ends of the battle space!"

"Keep it together," Peter said, "Split into pairs and keep an eye out for each other."

All too soon, the fighters converged upon the outnumbered Cornerians. They attacked in groups of four, making it very difficult to shake pursuing bogies. On the other hand, once one ship was hit, it usually careened into one or more in its group. 

Daphne Weber was getting dizzy from barrel rolling, "Would someone get these guys off my tail?"

"I'm right behind you, Red 2," Bill said. 

He target locked one of the husky's trackers and let loose a barrage of laser fire. The shot blasted the one into oblivion and scatter the others. 

"Thanks Lead," she sighed in relief.

Peter glanced at his sensor pad. Something akin to fear caught his throat. 

"I'm losing power," Deanna cried.

As her ship plummeted to the surface, she felt faint from the increase in Gs. 

"Punch out, 2," Peter shouted.

His attention was forced back to the dogfight before he could see if she had ejected. When the jackal glanced back, he saw the wreck rolling violently on the ground and coming to rest in the trees. He sincerely hoped she had escaped.

"Sir," a trooper called into the com, "Second floor secure, we currently have six prisoners, none officers."

Sgt Maj. Tomatz nodded to himself, "Have a unit proceed to the third floor, house the ranking prisoners in the second floor chow hall, room 211. Put the rest in a room away from the officers. Remember to use stun on the enemy, we must have the commander alive."

An acknowledgement rang through the coms. The ape's troops were well trained and educated in their mission. They were part of a larger special forces unit, instructed in all aspects of armed and unarmed combat, with obedience drilled into their minds and bodies. 

Tomatz knew if he gave an order to use stun weapons, they would follow it unquestioning. Perhaps as a reward, they would have a few low ranking mechanics to torture... if the mission went well. 

Chase Halloway barrel rolled his Arwing, avoiding the red lasers from two bogies. Without his wingman, Deanna Kulli, it was getting more and more difficult to shake pursuers. He was still being chased by the two sleek ships when two more attached themselves to his aft space.

"Someone help please," he said shakily. 

"We're coming Bulldog 4, this is your lead," Peter said as he angled off to the four ships behind Chase.

He watched his sensor as he turned to cross Chase's flight path in half. The jackal waited until his pilot flew by before taking aim at the four bogies. The first few shots hit their mark and scattered the rest. 

"Thanks Lead," the husky sighed. 

"New plan, Bulldog 4," Peter said, "Leave the atmosphere and see if you can contact any nearby military units or fighter squadrons. Update them on our current situation and request immediate assistance. We'll cover your back on the way out."

After a short pause, Chase replied affirmative. He gunned for the dark skies at an 80 degree angle. Three enemies latched onto his tail but were scattered by multiple Cornerian fire. 

"Think it will work, Bulldog 1," asked Bulldog 2, Haydri Chatookah.

"By the Gods it had better work, I don't know how much more we can take," Peter replied.

_Or how much longer our people on the ground can last..._

Mya Tainer checked around the corner, and after seeing it was clear, she motioned her two conscious flight mates over. The group had traversed, however perilously, to the fourth level, the medical unit, after escaping the beleaguered hanger with the injured Jenzalah Roberts. They placed the limp rabbit on the floor next to the wall.

"The med supplies should be somewhere around here," Aika Muyo whispered, "I think it's the closet in the middle hall."

Kim Motter peaked around the corner, "Looks clear. I'm goin' in!"

"Wait, do you know what to get," she asked.

Kim stared at her for a second, "Do you?"

"Do any of us," came Mya's sarcastic reply, "Just get some smelling salts to wake her up, and an ice pack."

The tree frog nodded and saluted before running around the corner. They heard a few shouts and sounds of laser fire. Mya cursed as Aika flattened herself against the wall. Kim's muffled cry was cut off by Mya's pained shout as a red laser beam sliced her right arm from behind. Her rifle clattered to the floor next to her.

Panic flooded Aika's mind, but a strange thought invaded. "This is what it feels like when you're about to die."

"Shut up!" Mya called from the floor.

_We're surrounded, down two, and one is going nuts on me_, Mya thought sardonically.

"Oh, they're using stun guns now," Aika said calmly. 

Mya grabbed her rifle and flipped to her back, wildly taking shots at the enemy behind her. The body of a dark clad soldier flying back was the last image she saw before the dark.

When she awoke, Mya was sitting with her upper body lying sprawled out on a table. Scents of food told her she was in the chow room. 

"Good morning sleepy head," Gregory Mitchell said as she sat upright.

She noticed Kim Motter and Aika Muyo still unconscious in the two seats on her left. Greg sat to her right at the next table while Depoli, leaning on his paw, sat on his right. In front of them were five dark clad furs with helmets and blaster rifles. Two were at each door and one sat in the middle.

"Where's the rest of us," she asked.

"That Brinker kid is currently being interrogated... or tortured, and Major Harvey was separated from us when we were caught. Sleeping Beauty is at rest behind us."

'Sleeping Beauty' being Jenzalah Roberts, who was indeed still unconscious. Mya turned and checked to make sure the rabbit was still breathing, then returned to her seat next to Greg.

"So what next Lt?" Greg whispered to prevent the five guards from hearing.

The lynx's eyebrows furrowed momentarily before she answered, "We wait until there's more than three of us to take on forty of them."


	12. Hope Returns

A/N – Oh, I keep forgetting. This story takes place one year before Star Fox 64. If I hadn't mentioned that before now, someone smack me with a tuna fish.

Katina Squadrons

Chapter 12 – Hope Returns

Although they were still outnumbered, the odds against the dogfighting pilots were evening. 

"Red 1, this is Red 2," Keeve said, "Do you think there are any more enemies coming?"

"That's unconfirmed, 2, but I'm willing to bet there aren't since they probably would have been here by now," Bill answered as he targeted an enemy pilot and pulled the triggers.

The enemy ship blasted into oblivion, but another quickly replaced his comrade in Bill's sights. 

Keeve flew in silence, mimicking Bill's movements and covering his tail. Until no enemy ships were left, it was inevitable that another of Keeve's fellow pilots would meet his maker. It had been four years ago, but he still had occasional flashbacks to the devastating battle that took his squadron. 

He had vowed to never let that happen again. 

Still, he had the feeling that one day his end would come. A flash caught his peripheral vision and he noticed, with a surge of adrenaline, that an out-of-control bogie was headed right towards him. The distance was close and the only thing Keeve could think to do was flip belly up to the impact. 

He braced for the collision that occurred soon after. The force shattered the right wing and killed the engine. When Keeve regained his bearings, he noticed all power was gone. After the auxiliary power booted essential systems, he saw his ship had taken catastrophic damage. He couldn't fly well in atmosphere without a wing anyway.

Alex watched the crash, "Who was that?!"

"Red 2! Red 2! Report damage!" Bill cried.

"I'm punching out," he said, not realizing his communications were down as well. 

Bill breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the cockpit eject and begin its fall to the ground. He returned his attention to the battle.

Keeve, on the other hand, was thanking the makers that the new Arwings had whole cockpit ejections, which were much less risky than the old seat ejector. He shuddered remembering what could happen. The hover unit whirred under his seat and brought the whole piece down gently. 

Much more gently than Deanna's ship had crashed. He noticed the burning hulk resting against trees in the distance. Keeve climbed out of the remaining intact part of his ship and grabbed binoculars stowed in a compartment. Focusing in on the flaming ship, he scanned the craft and surrounding area for any sign of the dalmatian. 

He could make out no more than shattered trees and the burning wreckage. The bobcat strapped on a backpack of supplies and began walking to his comrade's ruined ship.

Perhaps two hours had passed, but to the captured pilots, the time dragged like a long space flight. By then, Gyver Brinker had been returned in relatively good shape and Aika Muyo and Kim Motter had woken up. However, Jenzalah hadn't come around yet and James Harvey was still missing.

So if the Major was still gone, that also meant that Mya was still officially in charge. 

Since she had become conscious after the stun, her mind had been busy formulating a plan. As the guards became apparently more bored through the night, Mya's strategy began materializing. She had only to wait for the right time.

The guard sitting directly in front of her pressed his earpiece and listened to some instruction. 

"You and you," he pointed at two of the guards, "Go to the seventh level, the Sgt Maj needs some muscles to dig through files."

The two hurried off, obviously glad to be away from boring guard duty. To Mya, though, she was sure of the moment. Slowly she stood, attracting the attention of the three enemies. 

"What do think you're doing," the center one asked as he rose.

"Stretching my legs," _to kick your ass, she thought, "They get sore after sitting for a while."_

The avian looked at her suspiciously. 

"Oh come now, you have a rifle and I don't. You're not scared of me, are you?"

The bird chuckled and sat back down and the other two went back to leaning against the doorways. Slowly, Mya moved around her table, very aware all eyes were on her. She stretched her paws above her head and heard the bird clicking his beak. 

"Hey, ah," he said, "Why don't you go sit back down?"

"What, over there? No thanks, Greg smells bad."

"Hey," he called, sniffing his pits.

The avian stood and walked towards her. _Finally,_ she thought.

He pointed the rifle at her chest and cocked his head, "Sit. Now."

Faster than the bird could have acted, Mya slammed the barrel of the rifle with her palm and secured it between her left arm and ribs. She jammed the stock of the weapon in the avian's sternum and turned into his body. She aimed at one of the guards and shot before he could react, the bolt slamming his body back into the hall. The other guard had started shooting before he realized the shots had gone into Mya's 'live' armor. When he stopped, the lynx turned, shot, and caught his chest with a blast. He too flew into the hall. She let the body of the avian fall limp to the cold ground.

"Wow," Greg said as he caught the rifle Mya tossed him, "That was the coolest thing I've ever seen."

"Stop yakking and follow me. Brinker, you stay and guard Roberts," she tossed him a rifle, "When you see the lights go out, Derr will come get you and he'll tell you the plan."

She turned and checked the hallway before storming out with the rest following. They didn't go far as Mya stopped at the next door down. A storage room complete with an armory.

"This is the plan," Mya said as the group gathered around, "Motter, you will go to the computer control room. You must gain access to the base system and close the hallway blast doors. Who has electrical experience?"

"Me," Greg answered, "I've fixed wiring on ships before."

"Good, you'll go to the generators, level 5. There you will shut down power to everything but computer systems. That means the lights will go out and the elevators stop. Muyo, you go with him. Derr, you will remain here until the lights go out. Before that happens, find flashlights for you and that Brinker kid and load up on weapons. Start clearing the blast door sections after the lights are killed. Password 'Free James'."

"What about you," Aika asked.

"I'm going with shorty," she replied with a smirk.

"Oh har har!" Kim said, "Hey, genius, how are we getting 'there?'"

She turned and removed a silver metal grating behind her.

"Air vents."  
  


Daphne Weber pulled a long arc over the furious sky battle, drawing two bogies along. Her wingman, Alex Tainer, emerged perpendicular to her flight path. He took wild shots at a distance, nearly hitting the husky's ship.

"Careful, Red 4, don't take pot shots," she warned.

"Sorry," Alex replied meekly. 

His next shots were well placed and sent one flying uncontrollably. It crashed into the ground and burst into a fireball. 

"Cross off one more bogey," Alex shouted.

"Looks like Bulldog 4 is back," Peter Klein said, "But 2, no 3, unknowns are following him closely."

Chase Halloway was within com range before he entered visual range.

"Hey, Bulldog 4 here. I sent a mayday across military channels, ground unit's e.t.a. is two hours. We're to stay in the air until ground units arrive. No aerial units were on hand to scramble, seems like it's a busy day in Katina air space. But I did run across a group of willing mercenaries..."

"Mercenaries," Peter spat, "We're military, we use military, not civilians pretending to be military."

"I was in the military once," a random voice said.

"Back before space flight was a reality, right," another said.

"Oh I'm not that old," the voice replied.

_I know that voice_, Bill thought, "Peppy Hare?"

"Indeed, young man," the hare said.

"Star Fox!" Daphne shouted happily.

"Let's take 'em out," Fox called. 

Bill smiled. It had been a long long time since he had seen that vulpine. Not since high school at least when they had parted ways, Bill to the academy, Fox to the _Great Fox. To the greyhound, it was fitting that Fox had taken his father's place as the lead pilot of Star Fox team, even if it meant leaving his extraordinary flying skills at the mercy of those who might need it, few and far between._

"Red unit, report in," he said.

His two remaining pilots stated their power and shield levels, and Peter's unit did the same.

The souped up Arwings flown by Star Fox had the rest of the bogies whipped in no time. The four enemy survivors made a hasty retreat into the night sky. 

"Well that was short but fun," Falco Lombardi said with a snicker.

"Thanks Star Fox," Bill said.

Fox finally recognized him, "Bill Grey? Long time no see, buddy."

"I'd love to talk, Fox, but our base is in trouble and two pilots are down."

"Red 1, my wingman and I are medics, permission to land and assist," Daphne said.

"Affirmative, Red 3 and 4," Bill answered.

The two curved away from the diamond formation and landed between the two wreckages. 

"Oh, this is Bulldog 4 again. They're repositioning a com satellite for our communications. It'll be in place in about 10 minutes."

Bill double clicked his acknowledgement. 

"Well if you don't need us any longer," Fox began, "We should probably check out the other bases on Katina and see if they need help."

"Good idea, Fox. Nice seeing you," Bill answered.

"You too, Bill. Catch ya later."

The three Arwings blasted away from the group's formation.

Haydri Chatookah spoke, "How about we buzz the base and check out the damage?"

"Negative, that would alert them of our success. Hopefully they don't have communications with the troops in the base. That way we still have the benefit of surprise," Bill answered, using his tactical knowledge.

"So what do we do," Chase asked.

"We sit here and wait," Peter responded.

Keeve arrived at the smoldering wreckage of Deanna Kulli's shattered Arwing just as Star Fox entered the fray. It had essentially burned itself out and now only smoke steamed from the hulk. He had noticed the path the ship had rolled stretched back fifteen meters. It would be a miracle if the red-haired dalmation had survived. 

He stepped around transparisteel shards and large pieces of wings and engine until he was very close to the skeleton. He peered inside the twisted metal. 

Nothing. 

She wasn't there and the canopy and seat hadn't ejected. Unless her body had burned to ashes, Deanna was not in there.

The bobcat heard a branch crack behind him. He whipped around and there, in a tattered and burnt flight suit, was Deanna Kulli. She collapsed into his arms as he rushed to assist her.

"I... got out. I don't remember how," she mumbled, barely conscious. 

"Don't worry about it," Keeve soothed, "You're alive and that's all that matters."

She nodded and slipped into darkness. 


	13. Captured

A/N – Oi, long time no update. But it's done now, been done for a while, I just haven't had time to even get on the net. Enjoy!

Chapter 13 - Captured

Greg Mitchel and Aika Muyo crawled through the small air vents as quietly as possible. Greg paused at a large vertical shaft and looked into the black abyss. He consulted the datapad Mya Tainer had given him. 

"Looks like this is the access shaft for the lift," he whispered to a sweaty calico behind him.

"So take two floors up," she answered.

"Right."

They twisted around to their backs and crawled out to the 18-inch metal rungs. The two were halfway to the third floor when a soft whir was heard from above. Both froze.

"Uh, is that what I think it is…" Aika stuttered.

Incoherent mumblings escaped Greg's lips before he could think, "Just get real close to the ladder, maybe there's enough room for us to fit."

"What if there isn't?" She was panicking again, "We'll die a horrible painful death being crushed or falling and being crushed! I don't wanna die!"

"Aika," Greg said deadpan, "It passed. Let's just hope they didn't hear you crying like a baby."

"I was not," she whined. 

"Let's get going," he sighed. 

They reached the fifth level without further incident and crawled into the constrictive air vent. Once they reached the vent cover of the main generator room, Greg paused and listened for voices. Upon hearing none, he pushed against the cover gently… which disappeared abruptly and clattered loudly onto the floor.

"Good one," Aika whispered as she pinched his calf. 

"Hey," he replied, "I didn't expect it to just fall like a hunk of lead on Titania."

She smirked, "Did anyone notice?"

He poked his head out and looked around. Their path had taken then directly to the large generator room. The two generators ran on solar and thermal heat gathered by large sensors stacked along the outside of the base. The engines were relatively quiet, but probably loud enough to cover the clatter made by the vent as it hit the floor. 

Once he made sure there were no furs around, he twisted to his back and slowly inched his way out. With nothing to hold on to though, he landed awkwardly on his back. Aika's ears and eyes peaked out.

"You sure are no cat," she said.

"No shit, kitty," he joked. 

He helped her out and consulted the data pad. 

"The controls should be on the other side of the first generator," he said.

The two engines were ten-by-ten foot and five feet apart. They were cased in a dull green metal, with panel covers here and there. Greg found the one he was looking for and opened the cover. A mess of wires and switches adorned the plating. 

"So is it the red or the green one," Aika asked. 

"I'd say the blue one," he said professionally. 

He added in a normal voice, "Once I figure out this damn mess we'll have to flip the same switches on each generator at the same time, otherwise it'll cause a surge and possibly overload one."

She nodded.

"Hey," Greg paused, "Mya said she'd contact us on when to flip the lights, right?"

"Yes, you have a bad memory," she smirked.

"Nope, just selective," he countered as he started identifying switches and wires.

Mya Tainer and Kim Motter on the other hand, had traversed to the eighth floor, where the main computer and control rooms were. The actual room was smaller than it looked with computers on every wall except the door for the lift and for the emergency stairs. Both were normally guarded with security checks for anyone entering, but Mya didn't plan on needing a clearance. 

Once they reached the eighth level, Mya took the right air vent while Kim took the left. The right side was the only vent entrance to the room. The left side tunneled through the guard's 'shack' and behind the mainframe, with access panels along the length. 

As Mya neared the opening, she froze. Voices.

"Can you break the code," a male voice asked.

"I'm working on it, sir. The cipher is very complex and it's taking the decoding program longer than expected," another male voice answered.

"If the program doesn't decode it, save to the pda and we'll have Intel look at it."

The lynx listened intently to the various voices communicating, trying to get a judgment on how many there were. After a few minutes, she estimated six, all were most likely armed. 

She talked quietly into her comlink, "There are six enemies in the control room, stay silent."

Kim double-clicked. 

Mya soundlessly crawled to the very end of the air vent. The metal grating was all that was between her and the six Venom soldiers occupying the control room. The vents slanted downward, showing her only the hard tile floor one foot down. A booted foot moved into the view. 

Once again, she froze. It was a Cornerian issue boot, worn only by pilots.

_I'll be damned if that isn't Major Harvey_, she thought with a grin. 

The lynx tapped her comlink to relay the news to the four other listeners when smooth tan fingertips happened under the vents. They abruptly removed the vent and the face of James Harvey appeared, intent on moving into the exhaust vent as quickly as possible. 

But it was impossible with a lynx already occupying the space. 

And in the moment of surprise, James' escape was ruined and Mya was found. Strong arms pulled her out of the vent and she was tossed on the floor like a bag of garbage. 

"Who is this," an ape laughed, "A rogue soldier, coming to the rescue of her comrades? Too bad it didn't work."

As she tried to sit up, a rifle pushed her back down. 

"Check the vent," he said to another ape.

After a few moments, he returned, "Nothing sir."

"Good, put her with the other two."

The other two included James, and the commander of the base, Duncan Bates. The two highest ranking officers currently on station. James wore an apologetic look as Mya was shuffled over, but neither said a word. 

Kim listened intently to the words spoken on the other side of softly whirring computers. How had Mya been caught? He figured it wasn't likely that they found the entrance to his side, but it was still a possibility. He moved the rifle by his feet and positioned it for quick access. 

Then the tree frog set to work on the datapad. Kim hooked up a connection wire to the handheld computer and began moving through digital backdoors and breaking pass codes. He silently hoped the Venomian decoder hadn't finished its task yet, or his movements would be easily tracked. 

Kim's mind was so occupied by his task that he missed conversation between the soldiers. 

"Sir, a satellite has been repositioned for enemy air communications. There is no reply from our fighters," a short gray wolf reported as he removed a headset.

"One more thing, sir, the enemy pilots have ground units arriving two hours before our backups."

"Estimate of how many?"

The wolf shook his head negative.

"Secure a line to Venom, General Fitzbrider."

It was done shortly and soon the grizzled old beagle's image flashed onto a screen.

The ape saluted before reporting, "Sir, we have captured the base successfully, but the enemy has gathered troops and they will arrive long before ours. Holding the base against an unknown number of armed troops will be difficult at best," he leaned close so as not to be overheard by the three enemies, "However, objective two has been completed."

The general leaned back in agitated contemplation. Or at least he appeared to do so. Everything had fallen in place so easily that he could barely keep the smile from his muzzle. His composure held, though, and he leaned forward with the 'new' orders.

"Very well, abort the mission. Hostages?"

"Two ranking officers, including the base commander, and seven Flight Officer pilots. The rest are enlisted."

The enlisted were worthless in prisoner exchange, but the two ranking officers had value.

"Bring the two officers and shoot the pilots."

Tomatz saluted before the image of the beagle shrank into darkness. He turned to the two soldiers guarding Mya.

"You heard him," he said simply.

The two grabbed the lynx's wrists and pulled her away from James and Duncan. 

"Mya!" James cried as she immediately began struggling against the two captors. 

Then, with a soft click, the lights blinked out.


	14. Final Fight

A/N – Last chapter, and, I apologize, a lame ending. 

Chapter 14 – Final Fight

It was one impossibly soundless moment, the moment after the darkness began. Mya, who had been expecting this very moment, recovered quickest and resumed her struggle. Her elbow found the muzzle of the wolf on her left and he collapsed on the floor. She grabbed the barrel of the blaster rifle held by a tiger, trying to pry the weapon from his hands by shaking the gun violently. Before she could register her chance of success, the gun split in two, thanks to the soldier triggering the safety mechanism joining the two pieces. 

The lynx's balance was thrown and she fell clumsily to the ground, nearly landing on the wolf's blaster. She recovered it quickly and shot the tiger before he could react. Slowly, she stood, training the weapon on the ape who seemed to be in charge. The dim lights provided by the still-functioning computers cast an eerie shadow across the two furs.

The four other soldiers, James, and Duncan had moved to the door of the lift before the lights were killed, but once unfrozen from the surprise, they moved into action. An action that wouldn't get them very far.

"Sir, the lift isn't working," one said with pure bewilderment in his voice.

The ape slowly lifted his paw to his earpiece and spoke, "Seven, take order. Shoot the pilots and evacuate. Seven, take order. Seven?"

Tomatz nodded knowingly at Mya's triumphant smirk, "You planned this, didn't you?"

It was stated, rather than asked.

Mya said nothing as he took tentative steps towards the lynx, but brought the rifle to her shoulder. He paused momentarily, knowing the female pilot would have no reserves in shooting the enemy. His peripheral vision scanned the room for some distraction. 

He caught the slight movement of Mya's finger as it squeezed the trigger and his world stopped in that instant. 

The blaster rifle, the latest technology available to rogue militias controlled by the self-proclaimed emperor Andross, the blaster rifle, run by cartridges that packed enough power to shoot hundreds of devastating deadly rounds, made no sound as it dipped into a power supply that was not there. 

When Mya realized the power cartridge was lying by her feet, she knew her bluff would last only an instant. She was prepared when the ape charged the lynx. His punch was blocked by the now-useful rifle and her foot found his midsection. He turned into the kick and her foot merely brushed his chest. He further turned into a back kick but Mya sidestepped and kicked his inner thigh, spinning the ape off balance. He reacted quickly as he faced towards her and used the momentum to plant his fist into Mya's cheek. He grabbed her shoulders and slammed her sternum against his knee, effectively stunning, but not winding the lynx. 

She dropped the blaster as she jumped back an instant, then launched herself at the ape, feigning a right-legged kick to his stomach. His paws dropped reflexively to his waist as her foot connected with his furry chin. She landed her foot and snapped a left punch to his sternum, knocking the wind from him. Taking the sudden advantage, Mya's right leg curled around to a round house kick to his unprotected side, but he pinned her leg under his arm and pulled up so she twisted around. Then it was his advantage; he kicked the side of her left knee.

The pain was evident in her cry and fall. She clutched her knee in agony. 

Tomatz nodded victoriously and turned to the six observers, "Take them down the stairs."

They shoved the two captives towards the door and Tomatz pulled a pistol from a hip holster. As he turned to face her, she rolled with the blaster, snapping the power cartridge in place. The rifle whined to life. 

James and Duncan blinked in disbelief and the four soldiers froze to watch the happening.

"You just won't give up, will you," he asked irritably. 

"Quitters never win, winners never quit," she said as she slowly pushed herself to a sitting position.

"Well, today you lose," he said, pulling the trigger before she could respond.

The red bolt burned a small hole through her upper left chest. The blaster in her paws clattered across the floor as she fell back, slamming into the computer consoles with a crash.

"Mya!" James screamed. 

With a feral growl, the husky commander leapt onto Tomatz's back and wrapped his huge, strong paws around his throat. The four subordinate soldiers, reluctant to shoot their hostage and captive, began beating Duncan with the butts of their rifles, but he hung on, even as the ape collapsed to his knees. 

James stood dumbly for a few seconds, seemingly unable to take it all in, until Duncan called his name. Abruptly he elbowed the nearest fur, a canine, in the neck and grabbed his rifle. The three remaining soldiers were soon sporting smoking wounds similar to Mya's. 

The salamander kicked off the otter that had fallen onto the husky. It was then that he realized the ape was no longer moving. 

"You got him," James asked.

The towering husky pushed himself up wearily and reached for the rifle. Upon taking it he promptly blasted a hole in the ape's back.

"That's for Mya," he said as he collapsed into unconscious. 

Epilogue 

Commander's Log- Cmder William Grey

Twenty-four hours have passed since the surprise attack by the Venomian Forces. Seventeen enemies were captured, twenty-two enemy crafts were downed, and none of my pilots were lost. Injuries in the flying units included a blaster shot to the chest and twisted knee for 1Lt Mya Tainer, minor burns to a very lucky FO Deanna Kulli, and a concussion for FO Jenzalah Roberts. Several Arwings were severely damaged and had to be scraped. Damage to the actual base was mostly cosmetic and easily repairable. However, the electricians needed extra time to repair the wiring on the generators...

Commander's Personal Log-

It was a long day, yesterday, for everyone here at Tagger. My opinion of my troops handling of the situation is very good. In reward, each member has been given a three day reprieve from duty, staggered so four remain on station. Mya is still in serious condition, the doctors said if the shot had gone a little further up, she'd be dead. She's one lucky cat. It took me almost all day to figure out exactly what had taken place at Tagger while we were in the air, but once I realized who had come up with the master plan to retake the base, I somehow wasn't surprised. It was agreed with the base commander that Mya would get her Lt Star and Wings back, with a new medal tacked on. That girl is going places... if she can stay alive and out of trouble.

Later tonight the able-bodied pilots are getting together for a celebration. I don't plan on staying late because I'm leaving early for a press conference with General Pepper. How the press got wind of the attack so quickly is beyond me, but in any case, the troops here deserve the recognition and I hope they go home to a hero's welcome. 

Afterward, I plan on going home to catch some waves. It's only been a week, but I miss the ocean already. 

Although this Doctor Andross, or self-proclaimed 'Emperor', seems to be politically potent, his arsenal of weaponry and battleships doesn't seem to overpower the Cornerian Forces. In the possibility of a war with him, he shouldn't be hard to overthrow. After all, he's just a fanatic leader of sorts, and they go down easy. No big deal, right? 


End file.
